


just a heart-shaped piece of paper

by quietcloud



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietcloud/pseuds/quietcloud
Summary: a student sent you a love letter in my name AU





	just a heart-shaped piece of paper

Clarke had always known she wanted to work in art. As a child, her father had encouraged her to pursue many artistic endeavors so she had dabbled in everything. That's what she loved the most: discovering a new medium. So it came as no surprise to her friends that she decided to teach art. Teaching allowed her to discover the things she already knew through her students' eyes. So despite her mother's numerous attempts to stop her, she became a high school art teacher. She loved working at Arkadia High. Art was an optional class so besides the few students who took her class for extra credit, most students were very motivated.

Each year, the school organized a musical. Clarke enrolled herself and a few willing students to paint the stage set. She was always impressed by the kids' talent, be it in art, acting or lights. The show itself was her favorite part of the year, because it was the moment when all of their hard work came to fruition. The parents always loved it and you could feel the positive energy on stage. These students loved what they did.

Her least favorite part about it was Mr. Blake. Each year, the history teacher helped the kids with enunciation and singing. She knew that he enjoyed participating in the play and seeing how he interacted with the kids, she could see that he was a great teacher. But did he really have to take part in it _every year_?

They had never gotten along. The first year, the drama teacher had to threaten to ban them for the project because they argued so much that they kept disrupting rehearsals with their fights.

 

“Who cares about historical accuracy? The columns look great.” Clarke had gotten angry after he had criticized the piece she and her students were working on.

“Who cares? _Who cares_?, he repeated, accentuating the words the second time, “Aren't we in a school? Maybe we should teach students real facts before wasting their time with a stupid painting class.”

Going after arts education had been a bad move. Clarke could be a very patient woman, but not when teaching the arts was concerned.

 

Later, at a school board meeting, Clarke had found out that he was actually a very vocal supporter of arts education. It turned out they actually had a lot of similar opinions and he was bloody good at debating. She wasn't sure what had pushed him to say it that day. Still, ever since, they had remained sworn enemies and the icy glares and passive aggressive comments they sent each other were a great source of amusement for the whole student body, and for Raven, even though she only heard about it through Clarke. At least they didn't stop the students from enjoying the musical.

They didn't interact apart from rehearsals. Okay, so maybe she didn't exactly _hate_ him. But the only time Clarke enjoyed what was coming out of Bellamy's mouth was when he was singing. He often sung with the students to help them get the notes right. She had never heard him sing an entire song, though. She had to reluctantly admit that she kinda wished she would.

He was conventionally attractive, she guessed. As an artist, she could see that his defined jawlines and muscled arms where aesthetically pleasing. That was all. Simply an objective outsider's perspective.

 

\-------------

 

Another school tradition was the school's valentines cards. The students sent each other notes on red heart-shaped paper cards. They could write anything they wanted, and it could be kept anonymous, or not, because the student council was in charge of distributing the love notes. It was a student thing and while she had gotten one from an anonymous student a few years back, which she had graciously ignored, it was pretty easy to forget about it.

That is, until she heard a few of her students gossiping about it. She had given her students a task so she was just walking around the class, checking that no one needed her input. She always let her students chat during these tasks, as long as it wasn't too loud. She had never cared for gossip so she didn't listen in on their conversation. Besides, she respected her students' privacy. However, her interest was piqued when she heard Mr Blake's name mentioned.

“I heard he got three cards this year. It must get a little awkward.” Madi was saying to the boy in front of her.

“That's not the most interesting part!”, Oliver cut in with a conspiratorial grin. “He got one from a teacher!”

All the students around him stopped their work to turn towards him. Clarke pretended not to have heard and busied herself by reorganizing the scissors on a shelf.

“From who?”

She didn't need to turn around to feel all the stares on her. Breathing in deeply, she turned around, putting on an impervious front. “Are you all finished?” She asked with a smile. A few students mumbled or shook their heads before going back to their work.

 

Saying that Clarke was freaking out would have been an understatement. Clarke liked being in charge of her life. Most of her friends would say she was slightly obsessive with it. Raven wouldn't have the politeness to add the 'slightly', but Clarke wasn't asking her.

Accidentally hearing that someone had written a love letter in her name to Mr. Blake was _not_ planned. She managed to keep her composure until the end of class, waving her students off with a smile before locking the door and leaning on it with her face to the wall. She fought the urge to hit her head against it and took her phone out to text Raven.

 

Clarke: A student sent a love letter to Blake in my name

Raven: THIS IS TOO GOOD

Raven: Yes

Raven: Fuck him

Raven: you know you want to

Clarke: I do NOT

Raven: ;)

 

Ignoring her friend's suggestion, Clarke tried to come up with a plan. Talking to Bellamy seemed inevitable. He would probably make fun of her for it -god, she wouldn't hear the end of it- but in the end he would believe her if she told him the truth. He was a little full of himself, smirking anytime he caught her staring (barely _looking,_ really), but he was smart enough to realize that she hated him.

Well, hate was a strong word. They disagreed on a lot of things. Seeing how much his students adored him, he had to be a good teacher. And he _was_ very attractive. Anyway, he was still detestable and she disliked him. Strongly. Yes, that sounded better.

 

Clarke cleaned up the art room, sighing when she saw that Greg had left the brushes the wrong way around, with their weight pressing on the bristles. She ran her fingers around them to put them back to the desired shape, imagining how their conversation would go.

The musical rehearsal was on the next day so she walked past his classroom. She was relieved to see he wasn't there. She decided she would just wait until the next day.

Walking towards the parking lot, Clarke heard the footsteps of somebody trying to catch up to her. Assuming it was Anya, she slowed down her pace.

 

“Hi.” That deep voice was definitely not Anya's. Clarke kept her gaze decidedly on her feet, not daring to look at him.

“Bellamy. Hi.” When had he become Bellamy? She was pretty sure she had never said his name.

“So… I got your note.” he said, his voice turning up at the end, as if he was asking her a question.

“Listen about that-” Clarke started, turning towards him.

“The Indian Art Museum recently reopened.” He said at the same time. He wasn't looking at her either.

“What?” She finally caught his eye. They both fell silent.

Then, his eyes widened, having visibly understood what had happened.

“Oh. Nevermind, see you tomorrow.” They had reached the door and he went outside, practically running to his bike.

 

\---------

 

The next day, Clarke waited anxiously for rehearsal to start. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him. She wasn't sure she was going to say anything. Should she? They never talked before.

 

Rehearsal went as usual. In the beginning, she stayed backstage while he kept to the stage. It was more silent than before. It seemed Bellamy was going to pretend that nothing had happened. But soon they were back to exchanging cutting remarks. However, they sounded less aggressive than usual, friendly even. The students in the lead roles, who were currently on stage practicing a scene, exchanged an amused glance.

Clarke had more fun that usual that day. She really loved taking part in the musical but sometimes she let Blake get to her head to much. She discovered they would probably make pretty good friends, unless-

 

“So the museum opens at 10 on Saturdays.”

Bellamy looked at her with disbelief, waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, he shrugged his coat on, looking pretty pleased with himself.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”


End file.
